


First Life

by kaikim



Series: Veni, Vidi, Amavi [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Strangers to Lovers, eventually this is gonna evolve into, far too much plot for smut tho, kaiyeol are physically active married people so, there are vampires and vampires are undead so people do die, this isn't really the end of kaiyeol though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-16 00:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16943247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaikim/pseuds/kaikim
Summary: Crown Prince Chanyeol and Prince Jongin each hope to, at the very least, make a new friend through this arranged marriage. Neither man could have ever imagined the way they would gravitate towards each other for the rest of their lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What's up kaiyeol nation. I have a cold, so we're all getting an AU. Honestly, I wanted to write about vampires, but the exposition for how we got to vampires got way longer than expected and evolved into it's own fic. Here's to chapter 1!

The carriage bounced over a hole in the path and Jongin woke with a jolt that he immediately regretted, the sudden movement causing his stiff neck to cramp. He’d been riding in the carriage for nine days now, and before that he’d been at sea for nearly two months. He was tired, he missed his bathroom and his bed, and he missed real food; nevertheless, he was very carefully Not Resentful At All. He sighed and peered out the carriage window. Maybe he was a little resentful.

Since his youth, he’d known that as the second son to the king (by his third wife) his princeship meant very little. It was unspoken but often alluded to that the only reason he joined his older brother, Crown Prince Jongdae, in lessons was so that one day his hand could be offered in marriage to seal a tricky trade agreement or alliance or some other diplomatic thing. He’d gotten used to the idea that that diplomatic duty may never be asked of him when his father passed and Jongdae took the throne without it ever being mentioned. Months had passed peacefully, and he’d just been gathering up the courage to seek audience with the king and ask for a governorship in a province somewhere when the kingdom to the north suddenly decided it wanted more of his country’s timber in exchange for their textiles and fabrics. It was ridiculous, of course, merely an attempt to see how far they could push the young king and Jongdae’s quick show of force had quashed that. It had also embarrassed the northern king greatly, and Jongdae decided he needed to reassure his agreements with other allies- in case. 

The kingdom to the west was actually the late queen’s homeland and so supported Jongdae wholeheartedly. They’d been trading metalwork for foods too temperate for their climate with the southern kingdom for centuries and that relationship was fine. It was the newly formed kingdom to the east, across the sea that Jongdae and all his advisors had been unsure of. That land had held roving bands of individual clans for all of written history, but within the past six generations they’d banded together under one king and their power was only growing. There was no precedent between Jongin’s coastal home and the new kingdom, and Jongdae had been eager to establish some kind of bond. The moment the advisors had begun brainstorming in court Jongin let dreams of freedom in a province go- he knew it would only be a matter of time before someone remembered that the new nation’s crown prince was only a little older than he, and then the marriage talks would start.

He wasn’t wrong. Jongdae had at least had the decency to look sheepish when it was just the two of them after he cleared out the throne room, but he was still firm. It was Jongin’s princely duty. And so, while King Jongdae of Teugha had begun the long process of setting up an arranged marriage and accompanying trade agreement, Jongin turned to books and travel logs concerning the cultures of his future home.

All of that felt like it was years ago now, despite only months having passed, but Jongin was still a four-day’s ride away from the palace, his new home, and his future husband. _Crown Prince Chanyeol._ He’d never even seen the man before, but that didn’t matter much. Chanyeol would be king someday, would marry some woman and make her his queen, and she would have his heir. Jongin was a political pawn and his marriage would be a legal formality; still he hoped they’d at least be able to be friends.

It was late by the time Jongin’s caravan arrived, and there was only one squire to meet them. Jongin frowned from behind his curtain; he’d at least expected to meet his fiancé. 

“Hello, Your Grace and his retinue. My name is Junmyeon. Please, follow me to your chambers so that you may wash up and rest. Breakfast is approximately 7 hours from now, and I’ll be back to escort you into the Great Hall and present you to the royal family.”

Jongin stuck his hand out the window and waved his consent, and the caravan began rolling. He supposed he appreciated the time to clean up and relax before meeting his new family. Upon entering his chambers after saying good night to Junmyeon _(I’ll have the servants right up to help bathe you, sire)_ and looking in the mirror he decided for certain. He most definitely appreciated the clean up and down time.

+

_“Lords and Ladies, Barons and Baronesses, Your Majesties the King and Queen, and Your Grace Crown Prince, I present to you Prince Jongin of Teugha!”_

Jongin drew himself up to his full height before the doors before him opened and curled his lips in the slight smile he knew made him appear all at once mysterious and approachable. He hadn’t had nearly enough time to sleep in that soft soft bed, but he’d cleaned and shaved himself properly and was once again in the delicate, formal clothing that fit his station. His hair was neat and brushed smooth, bangs in his face to seem boyish and sweet.

He walked down the stairs alone as everyone stood to receive him, eyes on the King and Queen at the head of the long U-shaped table. Stopping in the center, he offered them a deep bow and stayed low until the King called for him to rise. Everyone was smiling at him and he could tell the entire court was enraptured; Jongdae would be proud. This was going to go off without a hitch. Jongin finally turned his gaze to the Crown Prince sitting at the King’s right hand. He took in a wide smile, a warm gaze that twitched slightly, and sweet ears. Crown Prince Chanyeol was even taller than him, and heartbreakingly pretty. Just looking at him brought the brightest melody to Jongin’s mind, and he carefully committed it to memory, so he could write it down later. The King beckoned him forward to the only chair on the inside of the U shape, directly across from the royal family. He smiled easily as he moved forward; it was time to finally seal the deal.

Jongin did not return to his rooms for a full two days. He’d been as charming as possible at dinner, putting his best foot forward. It was easy when the King and Queen were so kind. He’d had a bit more difficulty with Chanyeol- the Crown Prince made him uncharacteristically shy. Fortunately, they’d all found that endearing as well. In fact, he’d been so endearing that halfway through desert the Queen turned to the King with a determined look in her eye.

“You’ve already sorted everything necessary for the trade agreement, yes? Why don’t the boys get married tomorrow?”

Jongin had paused, pudding spoon halfway to his mouth in shock. The King had laughed and shouted his own agreement and Chanyeol choked on the pudding sitting in his mouth at the sudden noise. Jongin dropped his own spoon into his bowl and stood immediately, reaching over to rub at Chanyeol’s back and thump him a few times so he could breathe clearly again. It was something he’d done for Jongdae countless times and it wasn’t until he was sitting back in his own chair passing Chanyeol his own glass of water that he remembered that his fiancé was a stranger and maybe didn’t appreciate the touch. He felt his face flush as he realized and stammered an apology, but Chanyeol waved it away with a grin.

“Nonsense, Prince Jongin,” he responded, leaning further over the table to see if his fiancé would blush more. (Jongin did.) “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“Look, my King, they already get along so well! And we weren’t planning on it being a large wedding anyway given the nature of the alliance. Why bother waiting? It’s not as if we have much to prepare, and I do so want to spend more time with Prince Jongin, which wouldn’t be proper while he’s unwed.”

The Queen was holding his hand and beaming at him; Jongin chose to focus on her kind words and gentle touch, ignoring the sting that came from being reminded that his marriage had no sentimental value for anyone.

“My dear, I agree. Son, what do you think?” The King turned to Chanyeol expectantly, and Chanyeol straightened from where he’d been leaning on the table. He sat taller, all the makings of a young king evident in his posture.

“The ring I was having made for Prince Jongin isn’t prepared yet, obviously, as he’s only just arrived and hasn’t been to any fittings.” He then turned to Jongin, “if you’d like to take a walk with me to my rooms I have a number of rings that I’ve grown out of. If you find one you like then I’ll formally propose, and we can begin the wedding ceremony at dawn. And I’ll have an idea of what size to tell the jewelry maker for your official ring.”

Jongin could only stare up at Chanyeol through his bangs as the man spoke. A proper proposal? His choice in rings and then another presented later? None of this was necessary for a political marriage to a second prince but Chanyeol had said it so easily, as if he’d never once considered anything other than the best. It made Jongin’s heart swell, and the smile on his face was genuine when he nodded his agreement. Chanyeol grinned back at him and reached over to pull another strawberry off the platter and scoop it into Jongin’s pudding bowl.

“Now, now,” the Queen interrupted. “I’m sure Junmyeon can gather up the necessary servants and bring the rings from your rooms to Jongin in the study. I won’t allow you to drag him off to your bedroom so quickly.”

She’d fixed them each with a pointed look that made Jongin blush _again_ and made Chanyeol’s grin grow even wider. Certain that the Crown Prince was about to say something suggestive about wanting to be alone with his fiancé, and even more certain that if he had to hear that aloud at dinner with his new parents-in-law he would turn permanently red from head to toe, Jongin interrupted.

“Squire Junmyeon can bring the rings to my rooms; I don’t want to take up the study.”

“Don’t worry about that at all, Prince Jongin,” the King answered with a wave of his hand. “The tailors will need the space to set about hemming and adjusting the wedding suit we’ve had mocked up for you, and the study is closer to their workshops than your apartments. The less back and forth time, the better, since we’ll need to get you ready by dawn. Son, you need to prepare as well, so it probably is best Junmyeon facilitate the ring choosing so you don’t- ah- _get distracted._ ”

If one more person made reference to what they thought Chanyeol _might_ try, one more reference to what Jongin _might_ allow, he was going to melt into the floor. He’d just met the man that night! Granted, Chanyeol _was_ incredibly handsome and Jongin was feeling a bit touch starved after his long journey. He shook his head and chose to focus on the wedding rituals he’d studied. He knew that it was an old clan custom that a pair get married at dawn, walk together to find their new home, change each other from wedding garments to hunting clothes, and then go out into the woods and find their wedding night dinner together. Then they’d bring back their catch, cook it, share the extras with their families, and retire for the night.

“So, the ceremony will be starting at first light then? Where will it take place, and will we be walking back to the castle afterwards or has another house been prepared? What’s in season for hunting? I have my knives in the trunk at the foot of my bed, but my bow and arrows are still down with my retinue in the first-floor apartments.”

Jongin ticked through his questions and plans as he stirred absentmindedly at the pudding until his spoon bumped into the strawberry Chanyeol had gifted him. He scooped it up into his mouth and then looked at the royal family to see why no one had answered him only to discover three identically wide grins. Suddenly he realized that most of the hall was silent, and a quick glance around told him that entire court was staring at him with small smiles. He turned back to the royal family when Chanyeol grabbed his hand, his thumb rubbing gently back and forth across Jongin’s knuckles.

“You’ve been studying our ways.” It was a pleased murmur, but Chanyeol’s voice was so deep and resonant everyone in the quiet hall heard him clearly anyway. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

The King grasped his other hand and the Queen laid her own atop of her husband and Jongin’s grip. He ducked his head shyly before smiling up at his new family. Maybe being a political pawn wasn’t so awful after all; he’d have to write Jongdae and let him know.

+

Jongin wiped the sweat beading along his forehead and then wrinkled his brow as he felt all the dirt he’d left behind. He and Chanyeol had been tracking a small buck for nearly an hour, hoping it would lead them to a herd with an even larger buck when a boar had stampeded through and sent all the other wildlife running. Chanyeol had explained at dinner the night before that since they’d banded into a kingdom and two particular clans had taken on all the hunting, the wedding hunt was essentially a ceremonial formality. Most people came back with a rabbit or two. Their choice to catch a deer had been ambitious.

_“Crown Prince, do we have to stick to rabbits then?”_

_Chanyeol had looked at Jongin with a mischievous glint in his eye._

_“Dear husband, we can hunt whatever you’d like.”_

_They’d both smiled hard as the King and Queen shook their heads at the conversation, knowing the two young men would get along just fine and that all their lives were about to become significantly more hectic for it._

They could’ve let the boar be and returned to the palace empty handed without shame, but one glance at each other had let them know they were on the same page. An animal that large and wild shouldn’t be so close to the castle keep and the main road. And so, they’d pursued it. Two hours later, Jongin was beginning to feel exhausted, the hours of sleep he’d skipped to be fitted for his wedding clothes catching up to him. The sunrise ceremony where he’d run through the gardens until Chanyeol caught him and carried him to the Head Healer where he was presented and then blessed felt like it was years ago, not hours. A sharp raven’s caw made him sit up carefully- that was the signal. Chanyeol had scouted ahead and found the boar sitting still. Jongin strapped on his arrows, girded Chanyeol’s sword sheath around his hips, grabbed his bow in one hand and Chanyeol’s spear in the other and took off in a light jog. Nimble footed and quiet, he followed the cawing to where Chanyeol sat. He passed off Chanyeol’s weapons, and then readied his own. He knew he would be responsible for distracting the massive animal with arrows, and maybe injuring it a bit as Chanyeol got in close enough to stab it through with his spear, hopefully skewering the thing in place. Finally ready, he looked to his new husband.

Chanyeol hesitated a second before he set his sword and spear down carefully and moved in closer. Jongin ducked his head and turned his ear towards the Crown Prince to hear whatever he needed to say, but Chanyeol only cupped his jaw and raised his head until their eyes met.

“What is it?” Jongin whispered, concern abating but not disappearing at Chanyeol’s soft gaze.

“Thank you for marrying me this morning, and for helping me protect my people from this wild animal now. Stay safe, alright?” Chanyeol’s thumb brushed across the apple of his cheek and Jongin nodded firmly. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack if he spoke. Thanking him, as if it wasn’t Jongin’s country that needed the alliance. It’d been less than 24 hours since their first meeting but Chanyeol already seemed too good to be real. With every moment they spent together the melody Jongin first imagined upon seeing him developed more and more until it was practically a full song racing through his veins.

“Of course. You stay safe too, please.” He didn’t realize he was gripping Chanyeol’s shirt in one hand until his husband shuffled even closer.

“We’ll both stay safe and then go back together. We’ll start to cook for our family until Chef hears that we have an entire boar, and then he’ll come out and send us both away lest we ruin the meat. I’ll bathe you, and then wrap you in silk, and then we’ll sleep. But first, I’m going to kiss you, and then we’re going to kill that boar. Deal?”  
“Deal,” Jongin whispered, already leaning in to receive Chanyeol’s kiss. 

It was chaste, and over much too soon, but Chanyeol was picking up his weapons again and moving into position. Jongin focused on his own job in this, determined to do his part to protect himself, protect the nearby citizens, and protect Chanyeol. This is what he’d trained all his life for, what Jongdae entrusted him with. He would not let anyone down.

+

He and Chanyeol had managed to drag the dead boar halfway back to the castle before they both decided they quit. They’d reached the edge of the forest and had no energy to bring it the rest of the way across the field, so they left it, and hand in hand made their way to the line of lanterns ahead of them.

The King was the first one to speak.

“You two have been gone for hours and you look like you’ve been dragged through the woods. Could you not find something to catch? Son, you should’ve just brought Prince Jongin back to sleep, the poor man’s eyes aren’t even open as he walks!”

Oh. Jongin realized his eyes weren’t open. He’d been stumbling along guided by Chanyeol. He made the effort to open his eyes, but it wasn’t working, and he grunted in frustration. He was about to try again when he felt the earth tilt suddenly. Chanyeol’s speaking voice rumbling against his ear told him his husband had picked him up and tucked his head under his chin. If he was more awake he’d be embarrassed, but he only had enough strength to focus on the conversation around him.

“-a wild boar?!”

“Yes, my King, a wild boar. We killed it, and dragged it as far as the tree line, but we cannot bring it the rest of the way into the castle keep ourselves. If some soldiers would go bring it the rest of the way in, I’ll at least start the fire to cook it before putting Jongin to sleep. Forgive us for not cooking it entirely ourselves.”

“No, no of course that’s fine. The only fire you need to be worried about starting is for bathwater. Take Prince Jongin up to your rooms and see that he’s cared for. We’ll handle the boar.”

Jongin felt Chanyeol begin to stride away from his father, steps even so he wouldn’t be jostled and nuzzled even closer into Chanyeol’s chest when the King called to them again.  
“And Son?”

Jongin felt Chanyeol stop and turn.

“Thank you for killing the boar. It would’ve been dangerous loose. When your husband wakes, thank him for me as well.”

+

Chanyeol huffed out a small laugh as he set Jongin down on the plush rug in the center of his bedroom. He hadn’t wanted to put Jongin in his bed given how dirty and sweaty he was since they would need to sleep there later. He’d thought Jongin was dead asleep but as soon as he removed him from his arms Jongin had come alive whining and reaching for him. Chanyeol smoothed one hand over his forehead and leaned down to press his mouth against Jongin’s temple, right next to his ear.

“Just wait here a moment, alright? I’m going to run our bath and then I’ll be back.”

Jongin nodded sleepily and stilled, leaving Chanyeol to prepare. He was exhausted as well, but between the two of them was considerably more well rested. He walked into his personal bathroom where he found the bath already half filled, water tepid from waiting, and few more buckets sitting on a smoldering fire in the corner. Stoking the fire to heat the buckets, he thought of Jongin’s home across the sea, famous for their trees and flowers and metal mines, and poured a few drops of lavender and pine scented oils into the bathtub before adding the freshly heated water atop it. He stopped at the last bucket, stripping and using it to give himself a quick soapy wipe down. He wet another scrap towel and then walked back into the main room to find Jongin passed out again but mostly out of his clothes. All that remained were his pants and an undershirt. 

Chanyeol shook Jongin’s shoulder, trying to wake him.

“My Prince? Wake up. You need to finish getting undressed.”

Jongin only whined at him and tried to pull him to lie down as well.

He laughed and leaned back, pulling at Jongin’s arm.

“You need to get undressed.”

“You’re my husband now, are you not?” Jongin grumbled and stuck his arms straight up in the air. “Help me.” 

Chanyeol laid the rag over his shoulder and sat down to pull the sleepy man between his legs, leaning Jongin against his chest to pull his shirt off. He untied the drawstring of his pants and tapped his thigh until he raised his hips enough to pull them off. Chanyeol was careful, wiping him down with the rag to get the worst of the dirt off. 

If Chanyeol was honest with himself, he’d resented the idea of an arranged marriage since it was brought up. He never wanted to be a king with multiple spouses and he knew he would need to be if he took a husband. He knew very little about the kingdom across the sea and he’d never seen the brother princes. Well, brother King / Prince. It was obvious that King Jongdae needed them more than they needed him, and Chanyeol’d felt uncomfortable at how easily the man had offered his brother into the agreement. He knew his duty, though, and when his father had agreed to the alliance he’d fallen in line. 

All his trepidation had melted away when he finally saw the young prince making his way down the stairs into the Great Hall. That initial (very physical) attraction had only grown as they conversed over dinner. Chanyeol had been excited at the idea of making actual friends with his future husband, and he’d panicked when his mother suggested they get married immediately, worried Jongin would be uncomfortable. His heart had warmed at how Jongin went along with it, and then grown warmer at the realization that Jongin had studied their customs. And then they’d been married, and then they’d gone hunting, and though they’ve only been together a short time Chanyeol was already sure Jongin would be one of the most important people he’d ever met. 

He’d made Jongin several promises when they were out tracking the boar, and he intended to follow through, so he lifted him up, and made his way to the bathroom. 

\+ 

The next day there’d been a celebration involving the entire town. No one had even known the wild boar was so close; to have it handled before any real damage could be done was a blessing. There was enough food to hold over the nearby clans for the next month, the bones had been fashioned into desperately needed new farming tools, and the hide provided new clothing for many of the children around the castle. 

Neither prince saw any of it. Chanyeol had been firm, standing in the doorway and blocking Jongin from view as Junmyeon tried to persuade him repeatedly.

 _“No, Junmyeon. Tell my father and my mother that I am sorry, and let the people know that we appreciate their thanks, but we_ are _newlyweds. Normally no one would see us for weeks after the wedding night.”_

_“True, but this isn’t a usual marriage, and you know it. We’ve already bent tradition several times, once more won’t cause any strife.”_

_“The strife won’t be over bent tradition, Junmyeon, it will be over my husband falling asleep in his salad. He couldn’t have slept well in the two-month journey to get here, and as soon as he arrived he was swept up into our ceremony and then a two-man boar hunt. He’s exhausted, and I would be a poor husband, a poor Prince, and a foul human being if I allowed him to be dragged out again. We’re_ sleeping. _Give everyone our regards.”_

And that had been that. Chanyeol had insured Jongin slept the whole day and the next night, only waking him up for meals. He didn’t let the new prince leave his quarters until well into the next day, and only after Jongin himself had leaned over his shoulder while he sat at his writing desk and pouted about needing his things. Their friendship was rapidly developing, and very tactile. After how they were introduced neither one saw any point in regressing to do things over the proper way, so they continued with sweet kisses and warm hugs, holding hands throughout the castle when alone and walking side by side when in the presence of others.

Over the next few months, Jongin ingrained himself into the rhythm of life in the palace. He met with the Queen once a week to read and then walk through the gardens. The amount of time he spent in the libraries helped him to learn even more about his new home. The King came to value Jongin’s insight in fishing and trade, and often called him into the advisor’s room to sit beside Chanyeol and share his thoughts. He took over handling the menu for the castle keep, wrote letter after letter home to his brother, and continued to practice his music on guitar. It had taken awhile, but he’d finally perfected the song he’d imagined upon meeting Chanyeol. Once he was sure it was done, he brought his guitar with him to his weekly reading session with the Queen.

“Your Majesty, if you don’t mind, I’d like to play you a song I wrote and receive your opinion?”

“Of course, Jongin dear, I would love to hear it.” The Queen smiled winningly and set her book to the side, careful to mark her place before leaning forward.

Jongin closed his eyes as he played, letting the melody roll off his fingers before singing the lyrics. It was a love song that felt opposite of a lullaby, a song meant to wake someone up. The words spoke of a brightness that outshone light itself, of sincerity and passion and tranquility. As it wound to a close, Jongin strummed the last note so that it would hang in the air before looking to the Queen, surprised to see her smiling misty eyed. He set his guitar down in a rush, pulling out his handkerchief and kneeling at her side as he presented it. She took it in one hand and patted at his face with the other.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Jongin. My son will love it; he’s lucky to have you.”

Jongin started at that. He opened his mouth to ask how she’d known it was about Chanyeol when the man himself walked into the room.

“I heard the most enchanting melody, and I felt like it was calling me to come see what was going on. Oh- Mother are you crying?”

The Queen laughed as Chanyeol rushed forward to kneel beside Jongin.

“I’m fine dear, these are happy tears. A positive decision has given us an even better result than we could hope for, that’s all.” She stood and picked up her book before handing the handkerchief back to Jongin. “You know, I’ve decided I don’t feel like reading today. Why don’t you two spend the afternoon together?”

She winked at them and then whisked her way out of the room. Jongin and Chanyeol continued kneeling in silence until Chanyeol rocked back on heels, allowing himself to fall backwards until he was stretched out propped up on his elbows.

“Well, love? Would you play me that song that I came all the way up here to find?”

His grin was bright, as was Jongin’s answering grin as he walked over to get his guitar. If Jongin was blushing at the new pet name, neither of them mentioned it.

+

As time continued to pass, everyone in the castle grew comfortable. Chanyeol stopped entertaining foreign nobles with beautiful daughters at dinner. Jongin stopped nagging him to find a wife. They both began reading up on the legitimacy of an adopted heir. Soon the King and Queen gave up mentioning grandchildren and started to look into how each of the clans felt about requiring a single bloodline rule the kingdom, especially given how young their kingdom was. 

It was in the midst of all this peace, that tragedy struck in the form of a single squire from Teugha rushing into the throne room after demanding an audience with the royal family.

“King Jongdae has fallen ill. He’s dying and Prince Jongin is required at home at once.”

Jongin felt the sob wrench up out of his throat, but he didn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything, and his vision was rapidly growing blurry. All he could feel was Chanyeol’s arms suddenly around him, turning him to bury his face in the Crown Prince’s chest. He could feel it vibrating as Chanyeol spoke. He hoped his husband was giving the necessary orders to organize his trip back home. 

He moved in a fog for the next week as the whirlwind trip was finalized. Jongin started to focus again after the first two days, but he’d overheard someone say that if he was going to be king then both he and Chanyeol would have to refocus on taking a second spouse to insure children in each of their respective countries, lest one kingdom absorb the other due to the lack of an heir. He’d let himself shut back down at that. It was one thing to have his life uprooted for an alliance. It was one thing to have his new life torn away from him. It was one thing to suddenly be faced with potential kingship. It was one thing to deal with the death of his brother so soon after the death of his father. It was all too much to face all of that and have to deal with the idea of taking another spouse when he’d already lucked into love, and have that love look for someone else too. All in the name of politics.

The night before his long carriage ride to his ship Jongin bathed himself mechanically. Uncomfortable after walking back into his now nearly empty rooms, he put on a robe and nothing else, lit a candle, and left for Chanyeol’s apartments. The door opened nearly immediately after his soft knock, and he wondered if Chanyeol had been waiting for him. He set the candle to the side and blew out its flame, pulled off his robe, and climbed into his husband’s waiting embrace as he’d done dozens of times before.

“I don’t want to pressure you when I know your heart is so fragile, but when you leave tomorrow I can’t accompany you. I must stay here, and so you’re going to have to wake up. I’ve handled everything while you grieved but I’m not going to be able to do that once you leave.”

The words were soft and kind, and Chanyeol held him tightly as he spoke. Jongin took a deep breath and willed himself not to cry. This was their last night together for a long while and he refused to cry it away. Once he felt sure that he wouldn’t give in to weeping he returned the embrace, gripping Chanyeol tight in his arms, and rolled them so that he was lying on his back and Chanyeol was hovering over him.

“I know,” Jongin whispered, “and I promise I will. I’ve had enough training over the years to make it. But tonight, will you take care of me again? One last time, before I have to go, Chanyeol, please.”

He was whining now, he knew it, but it was worth it to feel Chanyeol’s head dip lower. Their noses bumped together and Chanyeol whispered _of course, my love_ into his mouth before slotting their lips together. Jongin poured as much emotion as he could into the kiss, chin tilted up to improve the angle as Chanyeol licked into his mouth, hot and possessive. Jongin curved one hand around Chanyeol’s neck and splayed the other across his back before pulling him down. Chanyeol laid down easily, hips immediately rolling into Jongin’s, pushing a soft moan out of them both. 

Chanyeol rocked into him harder, half-hard as he slid against Jongin’s erection, just a little too dry. Jongin chanted Chanyeol’s name like a prayer as his arm flung out trying to grab the small pot of oil they kept on the nightstand. Chanyeol kissed down the side of his neck, and when he bit into Jongin’s collar bone Jongin shuddered. The sting raced down his gut and straight to his cock. Distracted, he missed Chanyeol picking up the oil, and clenched in surprise before relaxing bonelessly into the sheets at the first press of Chanyeol’s finger against his rim. The first time they’d done this he’d been so tense he nearly cried just from nerves. Chanyeol had dipped Jongin’s fingers into the oil before pulling them to his own behind. He’d let Jongin prep him slowly, acclimating him to the feeling and the process. Chanyeol had made it seem like it felt so good that Jongin had wet the fingers of his other hand and slid them into himself. He’d brought them both off that way that night.

Since that night he’d developed a genuine preference for the feeling of something inside him during sex. If his own fingers were good, Chanyeol’s were better, and Chanyeol’s cock was best. He reveled in it now as Chanyeol spread three fingers wide inside him, curling as they pulled out and twisting as they pushed back in. He could hear Chanyeol calling him beautiful as he licked his way across Jongin’s chest. His hips ground down, chasing that full feeling and he whined when Chanyeol finally pulled his hand away.

“Hold on, I’ve got you.”

And then Chanyeol was pressing in, lips pressed against his own to cover his groan. He moved slow, slow, slow until he bottomed out, and they both sighed together. Chanyeol linked their hands together and then pulled them both over Jongin’s head, stretching them out. Jongin crossed his ankles behind Chanyeol’s back. They made eye contact and held it as Chanyeol pulled out and rolled his hips forward. Jongin wanted to roll his eyes back in his head at the slide home but he forced them to stay open, aware that he wasn’t sure when they would get to be together like this again, and rocked his hips in time with Chanyeol. Chanyeol seemed to have the same idea, because he never sped up, never looked away. Just slow and deep, in and out as they stared each other in the eyes. The way he angled to pass over that spot made the pressure build low in Jongin’s gut until he was whining again, panting at every push. He clenched, wanting to bring Chanyeol over with him, needing to be together in this at least one last time. Chanyeol’s rhythm stuttered as he moved faster and faster, until pleasure raced up both their spines.

Chanyeol pulled out slowly, careful at how sensitive they were, and collapsed to the side so he wouldn’t crush Jongin before getting up to grab Jongin’s robe from the floor. He used it to wipe down both their stomachs and then doubled it in half so Jongin could wipe in between his legs. He didn’t help with that part of clean up anymore; the sight of his cum sliding out of Jongin always ended with Jongin on his hands and knees and Chanyeol’s face buried in his behind. And _that_ led to a hard Jongin, which turned into more sex. They didn’t need that right now- Jongin had to rest before he left for his homeland.

When Jongin finally finished cleaning, Chanyeol pulled him close and cuddled him to sleep, whispering in his ear the whole night of how he would write him letters every day until they could see each other again.


	2. Chapter 2

Jongin clenched his jaw against the headache he felt growing behind his eyes before he remembered his father-in-law’s quiet admonishing voice in his mind. _Relax, Prince Jongin. The advisors are invaluable, but you can’t forget that we are in charge here. If you let them overwhelm you it will aid no one._ He’d heard that advice often as he sat in on meetings beside Chanyeol and he took it to heart now, refocusing on the four squabbling men in front of him.

“ _Of course_ , we all hope for King Jongdae’s full recovery, but it’s been four months and we must be practical which is why the annual ball should happen despite the King’s illness. Prince Jongin will need to meet suitors to find a wife.”

“Undoubtedly finding a queen is of utmost importance but there is no reason to begin again from scratch at a ball with everyone’s spirits so low when we already have a short list of King Jongdae’s suitors.”

“It would be unbecoming for Prince Jongin to begin courting those women while his brother still lives.”

“They are the most qualified!”

Jongin steeled himself before raising his right hand. The room slowly fell silent as he looked at each advisor in turn. “We will not be having a ball here in the castle while its King fights for his life upstairs. If the people wish to gather in the town square we will assist them in that, but it will be a party of the people for them. No nobility dancing through these halls.

I have no current intentions on marrying and even discussing it is inappropriate. I am not King nor am I Regent. I am not the Crown Prince. I am now, as I have always been, Prince Jongin and I am currently assisting my brother. Furthermore, for me to take any spouse I would need the approval of my Crown Prince. We are legally wed, and I am no adulterer.”

The four advisors all acquiesced immediately, the one closest to Jongin bowing lowest as he spoke.

“Of course, Your Majesty, we meant no insensitivity in suggesting the ball.”

Jongin nodded once so the man would continue talking, hypersensitive to the fact that he’d not apologized for glossing over Chanyeol. These advisors were doing that more and more often. He wanted to call them out for it, but that would have to wait. He needed to end the meeting soon if he wanted time to sit with Jongdae before mail arrived.

“See that the metalworkers’ guild and the timber guild get the support they requested, and the orders for all the work we’ve approved. I’ll be ending our meeting now, unless there’s anything any of you would like to add to the agenda?”

“Yes, Your Grace, there is one last thing.”

Jongin turned to face the advisor speaking, careful not to show his surprise. They never had anything to add.

“We’ve been discussing amongst ourselves and while it’s true that as long as the King lives your position will not change, you _are_ next in line for the throne. All things considered, we were already at a disadvantage in your marriage agreement, but this is too much. Have you considered divorcing Crown Prince Chanyeol? If you’d like, we can begin the processes; given that it was legal formality extricating you from it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Inside, Jongin seethed. These very same advisors who’d been so eager to pass him around to another kingdom when he was only a second prince turned greedy for his loyalty so easily now that he might rule them. Jongdae had been in a coma since his return four months earlier; Jongin knew that more permanent decisions would need to be made soon but he’d never imagined that his diplomatic advisors would be so tactless.

“While I appreciate your concern for the kingdom, I’ll thank you not to worry about my marriage. I’m not going to divorce my husband. If that is all?”

Jongin didn’t wait for a response before standing and exiting the advising room. He walked briskly towards Jongdae’s apartments, slowing as he made his way to the stairs that led into the Royal Tower. He’d wanted to get as far away from those scheming advisors as quickly as possible, but he wouldn’t bring that rage into the room with him. He climbed the stairs slowly, leaving behind his anger and his longing for Chanyeol. By the time he reached his brother’s bedside he was all smiles. He opened the curtains to let in more light, sat down, and read to Jongdae from the book of fables they’d loved as children. He held his hand as he told him about the going-ons of their kingdom and the kingdom across the sea, and asked Jongdae’s opinion on a change he’d made to the castle menu.

He didn’t stop talking until the Royal Doctor arrived with her assistant nurses to tend to the King. Jongin moved aside, allowing them to do their job, ready to head down to the courtyard and meet the mail carriage when the Royal Doctor stopped him.

“My Prince, a moment, if you please?”

“Of course, Doctor, what is it?”

“As you know, we induced this coma in hopes that it would give us time to find what ails the King and discover a cure. We have no leads, my Prince, and the herbs we used to bring on this coma are not intended for long term use. Four more months of this, and we won’t be able to wake him back up.”

“If you wake him up now he’ll die.”

The Royal Doctor nodded, eyes sympathetic and mouth tight. “We’ll keep trying; we have four months to get it right. If we can’t find anything we’re going to have to wake him up, so he can officially abdicate to you and make any other decrees. We’ll keep him comfortable until the end, but you should prepare yourself.”

Jongin was subdued when he reached the main courtyard, but he felt his mood pick up a bit as the mail carriage rode into the keep. He was worried about his brother, he was worried for his home, he wasn’t sure he could be a good king if needed, and he didn’t trust a single one of the advisors but those weren’t new concerns. In fact, he’d written about all of them in the last letter he sent Chanyeol, and soon he would have his husband’s response in his hands.

Jongin tore into the pack of letters as soon as he was alone in his rooms. It had been so hard to maintain his regal disposition walking back, knowing that everyone already thought he was strange for receiving the letters himself instead of allowing a page to bring them to him. He just wanted to minimize the number of hands the love letters passed through. Jongin prepared his desk, setting out a few sheets of paper, his pen and ink, and then sat down to read. He always took his letters first; it would take about two hours for the mail to be delivered to the rest of the surrounding area and by then he would have his responses written and ready to go back to the coast with the carriage. Opening the letter, a few dried petals fell out- he recognized them from the gardens where he’d been married and smiled; his lover was so sentimental. There was a red stain in the corner and a light sniff told him a strawberry had probably fallen there. Closing his eyes, he could imagine Chanyeol in his apartments, a plate of fruit by his side as he wrote furiously. It was probably around sunset, after dinner time. There’d be a lantern lit nearby in anticipation of the coming darkness; maybe the window was open to let a breeze in. Chanyeol only closed the windows in the early evening when he thought Jongin was coming by because Jongin never wore more than a robe to visit him...

He sat forward and opened his eyes, banishing that train of thought until nightfall. He needed to write his responses quickly. Lifting the parchment to his eyes, Jongin began to read.

_Prince Jongin,_

_How I long for you, beloved. Every morning I wake from the sweetest dreams of you hoping to hear your guitar echoing through the castle, hoping to hear your song calling me to you. For now, hearing the carriages come bringing your letters is enough. I hope this letter finds you well, all things considered. Give your King my greetings next time you go to sit with him. Mother and Father are well and miss you greatly; I’ve included their letters to you with my own. Try not to worry so much that people believe in you- loyalty to you is not disloyalty to King Jongdae because_ you _are not disloyal to King Jongdae. They obey you because they trust you to know what he would want, and to execute that well. You are amazing. It seems every week some new merchant or bard is traveling through and singing your praises to our people here; every one of us- from the King and Queen our parents on to the cowhearding clans on the edge of the kingdom and myself included- are heartachingly proud of you and how you handle yourself, my love. You represent all of your families well. As for the issue of your brother’s advisors, here is my advice…_

+

Jongin sat at Jongdae’s windows, looking out at the sea. The ship that had carried his letters to Chanyeol was long out of view. He’d tried to be positive in them, but he was sure Chanyeol would notice the despondency in his words. Much time had passed. Jongdae had two more months before the Royal Doctor would be forced to wake him and no progress had been made. Jongin had been officially named King Regent at the request of the people and he’d found himself to be totally adept at the task once he stopped letting his nerves rule him. The advisors pressed him more and more often to divorce Chanyeol and had begun introducing various genteel women to court in hopes that one would capture his heart. Jongin had barely contained his laughter when he’d over heard them say that; if they listened to him at all they’d know that no one in Teugha could capture what sat across the sea at the right-hand side of another King.

A large crash interrupted his thoughts. Jongin looked down into the courtyard to see his guards running and yelling as someone dodged around them. The intruder wasn’t getting anywhere near the castle doors but the guards couldn’t get a hand on them long enough to subdue them. It was the most energetic stalemate Jongin had ever seen and he leaned out of the window further, wondering if he should intervene, when the intruder looked up and saw him.

“PRINCE JONGIN!”

“…Squire Junmyeon?!”

“Prince Jongin, please!” Junmyeon danced back from the grasp of another guard and spun away from another before calling out to Jongin again. “I MUST speak with you!”

Jongin ignored the blood in his veins turning cold as he called off his guard and ordered Junmyeon escorted to the study. Junmyeon shouldn’t be there; he shouldn’t be there _alone_. He turned to Jongdae and ran his knuckles along his brother’s arm before circling his fingers around his wrist. “I wish you were awake. I think I’m going to need someone to talk to after this, whatever _this_ is.”

_This_ turned out to be dragons. 

Dragons that had awoken suddenly, seemingly unprovoked. Dragons that had razed the kingdom across the sea, tearing down everything and burning the earth where it stood. Dragons that stopped momentarily when they reached one of the more centrally located clans and retrieved the eggs a man there had stolen and brought home. Dragons that came back again with doubled fury when they found one of the eggs cracked with no life inside.

Jongin and Junmyeon sat in a secondary, smaller study as Junmyeon spoke. Their tea grew cold on the sitting table in front of them as he shared and shared and Jongin encouraged him. Years of training had taught him diplomacy, but it was only his past few months as acting King that gave him the willpower to listen and comprehend everything the squire was saying, even as his mind raced. He let the man talk and grieve, and he did not interrupt even though Junmyeon had yet to say a word about the three people Jongin was closest too. Those citizens were his people too, and he listened to stories of how each of them had been brave and fierce to the end. The inevitable end- there wasn’t much one could do in the face of dragons.

“I’m so sorry, Junmyeon.”

The smaller man heaved a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry as well, Your Grace,” he seemed to hesitate before looking Jongin in the eye. Jongin knew that he was finally going to get the answers to the questions that pressed him most and suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted them anymore. “Your Grace… Their Majesties, the King and Queen-“ Junmyeon reached for Jongin’s hand but stopped short. That wasn’t proper. He folded them back in his lap. Jongin wanted to grab his hand and ask him to continue but did not, sure that the advisors were nearby looking for a reason to push him further from Chanyeol. _Chanyeol._ Junmyeon’s voice brought him out of that thought.

“The King and Queen, their Majesties, your parents… they’ve perished, my Prince. While I and a scouting party searched a nearby village for survivors the dragons attacked the castle. No one survived.”

Jongin had suspected that that was coming and yet the grief still hit him squarely in the chest. All the air in his lungs escaped in a soft sob that he immediately quieted, and he struggled to suck in a large enough breath to ask the last question he had. He’d noticed that Junmyeon had only said the King and Queen were gone, but he was afraid the next answer would only hurt worse. After all, Junmyeon had showed up _alone_. Junmyeon seemed to know where Jongin’s mind was and interrupted his thoughts softly.

“Your Grace. He was in the scouting party with me. Honestly, we two were the scouting party. He didn’t want to risk anyone else’s life since there was a chance the dragons were still there, so he was going to go alone. I forced my way along with him. And then everyone we left behind as a measure of protection… he and I are all that’s left.”

“Where is he?” Jongin could hardly speak, voice low but insistent.

“At a healer closer to the coast. He got us onto a ship here and worked with the crew the whole time; he wanted to learn sailing to distract himself. It worked, but he also exhausted himself and caught cold. He was too weak to ride up here with me earlier. He’ll probably be well enough tomorrow, but we wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

Jongin was already across the room, furiously ringing the servant bell. He leaned in to the squire who arrived. “Baekhyun, please see to Squire Junmyeon. Give him a room and space to bathe. Find out where my husband is recovering and have him brought to me. No matter where I am or what time it is when he arrives.” His tone was steady and even, but Baekhyun had grown up with him and could clearly see that he was distressed. He nodded once and gestured for Junmyeon to follow him. Both men patted Jongin on the back on their way out, and he followed them for a bit before turning to head to his own apartments. He needed to cry, to scream, to grieve but first he wanted to add a few more pillows on his bed and heat up some bathwater. His thoughts lingered on that first time he’d bathed with Chanyeol, after the boar, and figured that if he could do nothing else, he could return the favor.

+

It was early in the morning when Baekhyun knocked on his door and called out to him “Crown Prince Chanyeol is arriving; his carriage will be pulling up shortly.”

Jongin yanked his door open and almost tripped down the stairs in his haste, regality be damned. He’d been fully dressed for hours, sitting on the edge of his bed waiting to hear anything. The advisors were awake and all four of them were lavishly dressed. They stood at their full heights in the atrium, obviously hoping to intimidate. Jongin would have slowed to tell them off but that was low on his list of priorities. He ran ahead of the few servants milling about, pulled the door open himself, and launched himself outside- straight into a warm body. He froze; what does a ruling Regent say when he accidentally runs headlong into his subjects? But then warm arms were coming to wrap around him, one across his shoulders and the other at his waist, and the scent of the person was so familiar it brought tears to his eyes. He’d wanted to be strong, someone to be depended on. He relaxed and clinched them shut so they wouldn’t spill out and curled his fingers into the front of their shirt.

“Have you come to fetch me yourself, love?”

Chanyeol’s voice rumbled in his chest and Jongin felt the taller man bend to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Of course, I have,” Jongin leaned back as he replied, anxious to look into Chanyeol’s eyes and see him, _really see him_ for the first time in months. “You always come to me, and I’m always going to receive you myself. For as long as you come to me.”

“And if I couldn’t come to you?” 

Chanyeol’s voice was light as he asked but his eyes were sad and Jongin knew he was thinking of pain. Of a time when he wasn’t sure he’d be able to reach Jongin. Jongin couldn’t keep the ragged fierceness out his voice when he answered.

“Then I would come find you. Always.”

The two men stared each other down but Jongin could see his servants pausing to watch. Everyone (except the advisors) had humored him about not divorcing, about the letters. He knew they’d all thought he was just hanging on to some semblance of normalcy and maintaining his marriage for the sake of the last large trade agreement King Jongdae had put together. None of them expected this level of devotion and he was sure there’d be rumors all throughout town and on into the country by morning. He didn’t mind it; he’d been telling them this whole time. Now they finally believed, and it was the least of his concerns.

“Allow me to take you to the bath, my Prince. You must be tired from the carriage ride.”

“Lead the way,” Chanyeol nodded, releasing Jongin from his arms and reaching to take his hand. “I’ll follow you.”

“You’re all dismissed for the evening.” Jongin made sure he looked at his people with a smile as he said it, never one to be rude, and then moved away with purpose. He had business to attend to. The advisors didn’t budge as everyone filed out. Neither Jongin nor Chanyeol noticed.

Chanyeol’s presence made the advisors more anxious. The Crown Prince no longer had a country or kingdom to return to, and the trade agreement said nothing about aiding them in rebuilding. In their greedy and possessive minds Chanyeol had only arrived to be King in Teugha and in those beliefs, they were alone. Everyone else saw Prince Chanyeol just as Jongin did and came to fall in love with his easy mannerisms, his kind words, his intricate and intelligent ideas and ideals. Everyone else learned to love as Jongin had learned to love, and with his solid support they all thought that their Regent just might be alright.

+

Chanyeol’s chest heaved and his shoulders shook, but he was silent as he kneeled with his face tucked into the corner and his arms wrapped around himself. Junmyeon sat beside him on the floor of the library, back against the wall and fist pressed to his own mouth. Chanyeol knew Jongin wanted to comfort him when the grief came on him like this. Usually he relished being held in the safety of his husband’s arms while his heart broke at the memories of his world rending apart around him and he was no fool. He knew Jongin had loved and accepted his people and had been loved and accepted in return; he knew that Jongin had never had any intention of staying in Teugha. The letters he sent often hinted as much, speaking of a time when Jongdae would wake and Jongin would return to the land he considered his home. He knew Jongin was grieving his found home too, and they often cried together.

But Junmyeon didn’t have a spouse.

Jongin never turned Junmyeon away and had gone out of his way to bring the squire out with them on secluded walks. After all, he had been the first person to welcome Jongin to his new home. Junmyeon always expressed sincere appreciation for the safe space and the consideration made Chanyeol love Jongin even more. Still. He and Junmyeon had grown up together; they’d never been exceptionally close, but they’d been constants in each other’s lives for so long. Occasionally, they needed this. Needed the soul-crushing commiseration of someone who _knew_ , who understood, who’d lost everything they’d ever known. The two men huddled in the library without touching and silently cried together for the lost way of life. The lost lives.

Their sobs passed, but the grief stayed. When they each felt more composed the looked each other in the eyes. Neither spoke, but Junmyeon left first to arrange clean bathwater for Chanyeol and then to arrange the same for himself. Chanyeol didn’t need it but he accepted regardless, knowing Junmyeon needed to be able to do something, anything. The Crown Prince stood when he’d collected himself and headed to his rooms to journal his thoughts. Jongin would have his weekly advisors’ meeting soon and Chanyeol had promised to attend. He normally avoided those, so the advisors wouldn’t feel so threatened by him, but the time to call it quits and wake Jongdae was approaching and Jongin had requested his support. He’d tell him about this moment of sadness later, present him with the journal so he wouldn’t feel Chanyeol was shutting him out.

Junmyeon was leaving his rooms as he entered. He stopped momentarily, grasping at the squire’s wrist. They waited for this smaller wave of despair to pass, acknowledging it and aware that it wouldn’t be the last, and then Junmyeon left. Chanyeol squared his shoulders and shut the door behind him. For the moment, he had writing to do and then a bath to take.

+

Jongdae was awake. He could see the moon hanging high in the sky from his window. He remembered consenting to being put under like it was yesterday. It didn’t feel like it was the first time he’d seen it in months, but his little brother was home and standing at his bedside, Royal Doctor a few steps behind him, and they wouldn’t lie. They wouldn’t lie to him about any of the things they were saying…. It was the dead of night and they were trying to give him time to get acclimated and updated before the advisors swept in at first light demanding audience with their King. He supposed he should get on with it then, if they were granting him the space to do so.

“Well. Obviously, I’ve got to officially abdicate to Jongin before I die.”

“Jongdae-“

He tossed a hand up to cut his brother off, or tried to. The motion was a lot slower than he wanted but that was to be expected wasn’t it? The clear strain it put him through managed to quiet his enthusiastic Regent anyway, and that’s what he wanted.

“No, brother. It’s been months, and if there is no cure now then there won’t ever be. You are obviously next in line, but with Chanyeol here and you refusing to divorce him the advisors are going to be worried over a coup.”

“If you thought he was capable of something so underhanded you wouldn’t have shipped me off to marry him.”

Jongin’s jaw was jumping in the low torch light; Jongdae knew his brother was conflicted between following his lead as he’s always done and defending his husband. Jongdae wondered if that was just because he loved him, or if he felt guilty allowing anyone to speak ill of the man who’d lost his home, or if it was just that months of ruling that made him less amenable to being bossed around. Perhaps all three? Perhaps something else? None of that mattered; there was business to attend to. He could catch up with his baby brother later on, before he…. Before.

“Of course, I trust him, and I trust you, but the advisors don’t. And even if their motives are greedy and spoiled, the conclusion they’ve reached is inevitable and reasonable. They aren’t the only ones who’ll be concerned if our people and our allies have any sense.” His gaze had drifted back towards the moon, but he brought his focus back to Jongin and looked him in the eyes. “I will abdicate to you so that the hierarchy of rule is clear and then you are going to have to reassure them, somehow.”

Somehow was a Queen. Somehow was an heir. Somehow was sending Chanyeol to the smaller estate they kept further inland, so he’d be far from the seat of government. Jongin was going to hate somehow. Jongdae didn’t begrudge him the stress and if the Doctor wasn’t right there he might have said so. As it was he turned his hand, so it rested palm up on the bed. He didn’t have to wait long before Jongin gripped it in his own hand.

“I’d like to be left alone in the gardens.”

The Royal Doctor and Jongin both reacted violently at that- Jongin flinching backwards and the Royal Doctor rushing forwards, furious whispered protests pouring from both of them.

“My King, that would be highly improper-“

“Jongdae you _know_ you can’t do that.”

“You’re still very weak, Your Grace, it would be unwise.”

“You aren’t leaving this tower and if you were leaving I’d go with you but that doesn’t matter because _you are not leaving._

“King Jongdae, if you’d like a change of scenery we have other tower rooms where the windows face different directions. I can-“

“Enough, both of you. I am still ill. We have no idea how long I have before I die. Tomorrow we’ll tell the advisors and the court that I am abdicating, that Jongin is to be coronated as King. The kingdom is following him as is and I don’t want to disturb that; I’ll tell everyone I don’t want a large funeral that carries on for days. I want to be quietly buried without a coffin and left- it’s what the kingdom needs. And before I wake up to the sun for the first time in months before getting caught up in a whirlwind of paperwork and politics that will likely keep me confined indoors until I leave this world, I should like to walk around outside my home. Alone. My own man.”

Jongdae felt they both look sufficiently chastised, and Jongin looked dangerously near tears, so he tacked on lightly, “and I’m still your King at the moment, so you can’t really stop me.” He said it with a small smile that widened at Jongin’s snort and the Royal Doctor’s chuckle. 

“Well then,” Jongdae said while he pushed himself to sit upright, “let’s go. You can walk me downstairs.”

+

It only took one impassive look for the Royal Doctor and Jongin to stop at the gate into the gardens. Jongdae walked ahead of them without looking back. Just a moment. He just needed a moment to himself to come to terms with the end of his life. He moved gingerly down the path, not wanting to tire himself out. It would do no good if they had to come find him and carry him back to the tower room. The moon hung fat in the sky, a witness to his last few free moments. 

If he was honest, Jongdae could admit that while he had loved being King and still loved his people, and while he did feel guilty about the burden Jongin was going to have to face, he was a little relieved to be rid of his responsibilities. At the risk of over-indulging in morbidity, Jongdae looked on the bright side; he could have never fathomed how much sacrifice would be required of him to rule.

He sighed. Soon those ever-growing burdens would be Jongin’s problems. His brother had dealt with plenty of demands as Regent, but he was going to face even more as King. If he had any foresight, if he loved Chanyeol at all, he would divorce him or send him away. If Chanyeol had any sense he would let it happen. Despite only having been awake for a few hours, Jongdae already knew none of that would occur. He’d barely seen Chanyeol for a few minutes, when he first woke up. The foreign prince had been sitting in the arm chair at his bed side with Jongin curled up in his lap, tending the cool cloth on Jongdae’s forehead one handed. Jongdae remembered the easy way Jongin slept straddling Chanyeol, face tucked into the hollow of his neck and arms wrapped around his middle. Chanyeol’s easy grip on Jongin’s waist with one arm while he used the other to wring water from the cloth into a nearby bucket before laying it across Jongdae’s forehead without looking up from Jongin gave away how often that tableau had occurred. 

He'd cleared his throat to get Chanyeol’s attention, and his brother-in-law had woken Jongin up, cleared out, and sent the Royal Doctor after him with the practiced ease of a man meant to rule. It was appreciated; if the advisors had known they probably would’ve plotted to poison him. Jongdae walked to a corner of the garden where there’d always been a hole in the fence, sure that Jongin hadn’t thought to repair it since coming back. He slipped out into the forest, hoping the genuine wildness of the plant life there would distract and comfort him more than the garden had.

For a while, it worked. The King let himself get lost among the trees, never looking over his shoulder to see the ever-present castle. He was too focused on moving forward. The shadows around him came to life, fliting by but he didn’t notice. It grew darker than it should, tree leaves blocking out the light entirely. Jongdae felt a shiver run down his spine; something was wrong. He turned ran, ran back towards the castle he could no longer see. He still needed to officially abdicate, they still needed him. He still needed to say good-bye. Weakened legs pushed, pushed, pushed but they couldn’t carry him fast enough. A great shadow descended on him and he opened to his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He jerked at a sharp pain in his neck and then his vision fell dark.

+

“We can’t finish turning this one. He’s sick!”

“….far too ill to be of any use…”

Jongdae floated on the edge of consciousness. There were two of them. He hadn’t realized any still existed, hadn’t known any of these creatures of legends still walked the earth.

“…thought of that before! Now we have to…”

“He’ll kill everyone around first if we don’t finish! The bloodlust…”

“It’s not that I don’t wish us to finish; he is sick and we _quite literally cannot-_

He knew that he had to get back to the garden. Back to his tower, back to his deathbed. But no, he wouldn’t die, would he? They’d bitten him. He wasn’t turning either; his sires were rejecting him and his failing health. That was okay; he was dying anyway. Technically the chain of succession was set. He wanted to just rest there, wanted to dig down into the earth and let it surround him. Jongdae squirmed, pressed down as if he could dig into the soil with his shoulder blades. Was he digging his own grave? It felt right.

“Leave him… his brother later…”

“Obviously, after he’s King…”

No. Not Jongin. He was already losing so much. Jongdae waited until they’d abandoned him to drive himself mad and then dragged himself up and forward. He didn’t know which way was back anymore, but he could smell people. He could hear their heartbeats. His nostrils flared, and he tensed; he wasn’t going to harm anyone. He could control himself. This was his mistake, he could fix it. They’d already agreed to let him die quietly, without fanfare, so no one would know. He just had to get back and ensure the kingdom’s future, his brother’s protection. 

Jongdae should’ve been drenched in sweat by the time he returned to the gardens but there was only barely a sheen across his forehead. The night air felt cooler than usual and the moon seemed even brighter. The King drew himself to his full height and walked carefully back to his doctor and brother. Morning was coming.

+

Chanyeol stood at the edge of the court. Jongdae was on his throne and Jongin kneeled before him. He watched his husband offer the Regent crown back to his brother along with the rest of the court, and all the town criers and advisors and lords and ladies and servants and witnessed King Jongdae’s formal rejection. Jongdae’s gaze was bright and he kept his voice clear.

“This is my will, to protect and preserve the peace in our kingdom. Are there any who oppose me?”

Chanyeol knew that wasn’t rhetorical. He’d studied and studied Jongin’s home ever since their wedding. The chain of succession was meant for if the sitting ruler died; if anyone really had issue with the passing of the crown while the sitting King still lived they could say so now. A protection against coerced coups or unfair influences. No one would say anything this time though. Though the circumstance was awful, Chanyeol’s lips almost curled into a small smile anyway because the people loved Jongin. They trusted in him and believed him; they’d already accepted him as their King. The almost smile never blossomed; advisors were still watching and if they thought Chanyeol found satisfaction in any of this at all they would want his head.

He was already tired of Jongin’s endless apologizing. He hated that the lines at the corners of Jongin’s eyes weren’t just crows’ feet of laughter, but signs of concern for Chanyeol. He hated how Jongin worried about him and his safety. He hated even more that he knew how to ease the tension in the court but would never follow through. Chanyeol had seen too much loss. His heart felt too heavy and too cowardly to let Jongin go again. So, he kept his face carefully impartial as Jongin accepted the crown and then rose to face his subjects. He applauded along politely as the hall thundered when Jongdae rose to give his brother a hug and the two men walked arm in arm out of the room.

The Crown Prince patted Junmyeon on the arm and headed out to the lake as he often did these days. King Jongin would be busy preparing his brother’s funeral; a quiet ceremony in the tower room and then a small processional through the castle keep so everyone could see Jongdae before they buried him in the forest. No one knew when he would die but it was clear to everyone it would be soon. Chanyeol wanted to rest so he could support Jongin when the time came. For now, he let the brothers be.

Much later found Chanyeol on his way back to his rooms to bathe and rest when he heard his song. Jongin’s guitar tripped and stumbled over the notes, and his voice wobbled dangerously, but he was singing Chanyeol’s song. Chanyeol changed directions. Baths didn’t mean a thing compared to Jongin needing him.

+

No one was surprised when Jongdae began to waste away, as if he used all his strength in his last public appearance while living. Everyone _was_ surprised when he began to call for Junmyeon, asking the squire to bring him books and scrolls and read to him in private. Jongdae knew they all had questions but there were none he could answer, not directly. Some of the answers he didn’t know himself. That’s why he was using Junmyeon, learning with him and teaching him what he could. They read every bit of information the squire could find on vampires together, going over the difference between a bite that turned or caused a half-finished turn, a bite just to feed, a bite to kill. The rules about inviting them in and how long they could stay. Myths about the sun harming them, truths about the power of intentions and true names. Every rumor, every “factual” account, every idea was tracked down and attributed to a dying man’s wishes.

Jongdae appeared to be wasting away; _he was wasting away._ It wasn’t death that gripped him, however; it was hunger. Jongdae held out until he could hardly hold the encroaching bloodlust at bay, reminding everyone of his funeral plans and stuffing Junmyeon’s mind as full of information as he could manage, and then he laid down on his bed, took Jongin’s hand in his, held his breath, and let his heartbeat slow until it felt like it had stilled. When Jongin woke in the morning, his brother was dead with a smile on his face and Jongdae did not flinch when his baby brother kneeled at his bed side and wailed. Chanyeol was in the room nearly immediately, coming through a servants’ entrance in the corner and kneeled as well, one hand placed over Jongdae and Jongin’s grasp and the other arm holding Jongin to his chest. 

_About time he got here._ Jongdae thought to himself. The Royal Doctor came over and carefully laid a hand over his face closing his eyes. He just needed to keep still long enough to get buried in the forest and everything would be alright.

Jongdae found his funeral interesting. It was nice to know that his people loved him so dearly; he really had done his best to lead them well. He was sorry to hurt Jongin like this; it felt wrong given that he was still alive, or mostly alive. Not entirely dead. 

_I can’t think that way. I was already ill; I was going to die anyway. He was going to suffer this way regardless. At least this way I can_ attempt _to help._ He’d been abandoned by his sires, so he’d never be properly immortal, if what he and Junmyeon had read was accurate. He’d missed his window for immortality which was fine. He’d hang around trying to protect the castle for 100 years or so unless he was killed or turned someone else. Or at least, that’s what he intended to happen. The bloodlust was almost unbearable at this point; he needed to be buried quickly if his intentions were going to result in any good.

When he finally felt the earth being poured over him the tension eased out his shoulders. Everything would be okay now. Everything would be fine.

+

It’d barely been three weeks since he was buried, and everything was not fine. Everything was actually very close to falling apart, and Jongin had no idea, and there was no way Jongdae could tell him. Jongdae was exhausted. He’d been feeding on livestock, but he needed to feed from a human at least once to slake his thirst. His sires were back in the area and hiding his presence from them while confounding their attempts to lure Jongin out took the small amount of energy he had. His brother was still grieving and Chanyeol was taking care of him, but the advisors were pressuring the couple so Chanyeol stayed away more than either husband wanted, which of course left Jongin more vulnerable to the vampires who wanted to turn him and take over the kingdom. It was almost too much; something needed to break.

The breaking came two weeks later, and it was awful, but it was the best answer to all the issues that plagued Jongdae. He overheard the advisors planning to abandon Chanyeol in the woods and then convince Jongin his husband had died.

Jongdae did nothing to stop them.

+

Chanyeol turned another page of his novel. He was alone in the library, dressed in his night clothes. The firelight wasn’t nearly enough to read by, but it was good enough to enjoy the illuminated illustrations at the beginning of every page. A low rumble approached the library door and Chanyeol tensed, ready to spring at whatever threat launched into the room at him. At the sight of the four advisors falling over themselves to enter the room the illuminated book fell out of his hands.

“Crown Prince Chanyeol,” one of them bit out his title, clearly unhappy about it but forcing the respect anyway, “please come quickly. King Jongin is in the woods.”

“What?” Chanyeol was already standing and moving.

“He woke up delirious, saying he needed to see King Jongdae and then ran out into the forest. We’ve been trying to convince him to come back inside without causing an uproar.”

The second advisor chimed in, “Please Crown Prince, you _must_ help us bring him inside.”

“Of course, take me to him now.”

Chanyeol followed behind the advisors in a light jog. He’d known Jongin was struggling; he’d had so much to grieve lately. They’d been keeping a good balance of space to keep the advisors calm and closeness to keep the two of them calm, and when it all got to be too much Jongin would call him discreetly by playing his song. It’d been days since he heard his song, though, and he’d worried this might happen.

+

Jongdae had thought burying his mother was hard. He’d thought burying his father was hard too. He’d had a difficult time sending his younger brother away to marry a man he’d never met. He’d struggled with his own death, and then dealt with the knowledge that he was going to live. He should have been quite skilled at handling the hard things by this point, but his heart still twisted in his chest as the advisors urged Chanyeol deeper into the forest. He closed his eyes to block out the sight of the ruthless beating, but his hearing was too advanced to hide the sounds. He waited until the advisors returned to the castle, Chanyeol’s bloody outer robes in hand, leaving the man to gasp his dying breaths in only his nightgown.

Steadying himself, Jongdae climbed out of the tree where he’d been hiding. If he turned one human while this weak he would die. But Chanyeol was healthy. Chanyeol was strong. Chanyeol was everything Jongin needed and everything Jongin couldn’t have. The air was unnaturally quiet, the moon watching Jongdae drag Chanyeol closer to the shallow graves he’d already dug. No nonsense, he bit into Chanyeol and very nearly drained him. Stopping just barely in time, he pushed the dying man into the grave before biting his own wrist. He held his arm over Chanyeol’s mouth _easy, easy, drink a little_ , and when his fledgling finished he covered his body in soil and sat down to wait in his own grave. He felt lightheaded from how much Chanyeol had taken from him, but he wouldn’t close his eyes just yet.

It felt like hours and hours had passed when suddenly Chanyeol’s arm punched through the ground. _Finally._ He laid down and let the undead prince unearth himself.

“Chanyeol!”

The fledgling flinched at the sound of his voice and turned towards him.

“Hear and obey me.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Wait outside the gardens on the east wing for Junmyeon to take his morning walk. Approach him and tell him that I said you need to feed. He’ll know what to do. Do not kill him. When you have finished there, return and bury me.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Chanyeol. I will be dead when you return. Junmyeon knows everything I do concerning… how we are. He will guide you. Listen to him.”

Chanyeol inclined his head to show that he understood and Jongdae could tell that he’s barely holding himself together, bloodlust running through him much stronger with no illness to hamper it. Jongdae’d done all he could, so he closed his eyes and set his fledgling loose.

“You may go.” 

He knew instinctively that Chanyeol was gone. He hoped the advisors were somewhat kind when they lied to Jongin. He hoped Jongin moved on quickly. For the good of the kingdom. For his own safety.

+

Chanyeol had never heard of a creature of the night being anyone’s guardian angel. According to Junmyeon, that’s what Jongin called him.

After he finished turning, after he buried his sire for a second time, Chanyeol had run deep into the forest. His life had been stolen from him and he’d wanted to disappear in despair. He’d walked for two days straight before his conscious got the best of him and he turned around. He was still the closest thing to family Junmyeon had. Jongin was grieving his brother, grieving him, and all while running a country. There was no way Chanyeol could’ve left them alone.

Junmyeon gave him a standing invitation to enter the castle. Most nights found Chanyeol in his old rooms where Jongin slept those first few months, wrapped up in Chanyeol’s old night robes. The vampire prince watched over his husband, whispering affirmations in his ear when Jongin’s nightmares overwhelmed him. When Jongin felt better and returned to his own quarters Chanyeol followed, always just outside the window. In case. 

He staked his claim of the area, lord over it all both in life and in death; only a small handful of vampires ever tried to challenge him for control of the area. None of them survived him. Junmyeon wouldn’t let him kill any of the advisors, saying that Jongin needed their support, but he helped to watch them closely. If sometimes Junmyeon passed word to Chanyeol that they were trying to hold back a measure Jongin wanted passed and then suddenly that advisor had night terrors that pushed them to do Jongin’s bidding- well, Chanyeol and Junmyeon didn’t discuss that.

He watched Jongin remarry, a beautiful young woman from the northern kingdom. She was kind; all of Teugha loved her. When she was first arrived at court she was greeted by Baekhyun, just like Junmyeon had greeted Jongin years ago. Jongin watched her arrival from his tower; there was no way he could’ve possibly known, but he was imitating Chanyeol’s behavior from back then as well. 

“Junmyeon?” Jongin called to the squire, waiting until he joined him at the window to see the future Queen.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“Do you think Chanyeol would like her? …Would he understand?” Jongin’s eyes were trained down on the courtyard; he never saw Junmyeon look out into the shadows of the rooftop to catch an emphatic nod _yes_.

“I guarantee that he would, your Majesty.”

Jongin nodded to himself. “Alright. Alright. I’ll… I’ll be as good to her as Chanyeol was to me. I’ll make this place her home.”

Chanyeol spent decades watching Jongin make good on that late-night promise. Jongin married her, gave her children, raised them well, ruled his kingdom with love and light, passed his oldest daughter the throne, buried and mourned his wife, played with his grandchildren. Chanyeol watched each season of his life come and go and told Junmyeon whenever he felt so proud that his heart my burst. The response was always a wry _I hardly think the hearts of the undead can burst, your Grace._ but Chanyeol didn’t care. His lover was strong, and amazing, and no matter how much grief or strife he life burdened him with he handled it with grace without ever losing his brilliant compassion for others. 

When Junmyeon retired, he bought a quiet farm further inland of the Teugha, closer to the metal mines, and then he left the castle he left with Jongin’s blessing and Baekhyun in tow. Chanyeol visited him occasionally, and never for long. Never where Baekhyun could see. Since Junmyeon no longer resided in the castle, his standing invitation to enter was no longer valid but Chanyeol didn’t begrudge him that happiness. Jongin never had nightmares anymore anyway.

+

Jongin dismissed his children from his side, telling them he needed to rest. The new Royal Doctor agreed, and carefully herded everyone out of the room.

“Your Majesty, if you need anything at all just pull the bell rope beside you and I’ll be right in.”

“Of course, Doctor, thank you. Please, go about your evening, have dinner. I’m going to sleep now.”

The Royal Doctor nodded his assent, closed the tower windows against the draft, and then exited, leaving Jongin to let out a soft sigh. He would be going to sleep, and he was sure that once he did, he wouldn’t wake up. It felt right, like it was time. Finally, alone in his room, he held his breath and waited- waited- waited- and there it was. That feeling that he wasn’t alone, that he was safe. He didn’t really want to die by himself, but he knew that if his children heard what he was about to say they’d have the Royal Doctor sedate him.

“My love. Oh, my love, I believe I’ve reached the end of this life; part of me wonders if I’ll see you waiting to greet me on the other side, if there is another side. But most of me knows that even if there is an afterlife, you aren’t there. Because I’ve felt you here, my love, right beside me like you promised you always would be, watching over me.” Jongin’s dry laughed turned into a light cough. He smothered it in a wrinkled fist, not wanting to draw undue attention. He had things to say still.

If that was ever true, if you were really here, then I’d like to see you one more time; Chanyeol please, come hold me as I pass on now.”

The prince sitting outside the window lifted his head from where it rested against the stone as he listened to his husband’s soft voice. That last bit there- that was an invitation. Chanyeol grinned, and for the first time in years pushed open the window shutters to crawl into Jongin’s bedroom, into Jongin’s bed. He’d moved at his usual speed, but to Jongin it seemed like he was there instantaneously. One moment he was alone, calling out for his first love like a doddering old fool and the next he was cradled in the embrace of the lover he hadn’t seen in decades.

“Oh! I’m not sick, so this isn’t a fever dream, but even if it was I’d be glad for it. Glad you’re the last person I’ll see before I go.” Jongin pouted. “You haven’t aged a day; it’s unfair.”

Chanyeol held him silently, not willing to break the calm around them. This was about Jongin, Jongin’s passing. He wouldn’t make it about himself and all the things he wanted to say. 

Jongin brought up a hand to trace along the edges of Chanyeol’s jaw, his lips, down his nose, mapping the face that he never forgot with his fingers.

“I swear I’ll see you in my next life, Park Chanyeol. And the next and the next. I’ll sing so you can find me, and every time you come to me I’ll receive you myself.”

Finally, Chanyeol spoke, careful not to let his fangs flash.

“And if I couldn’t come to you?” 

“Then I’d come find you. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! I'm pretty excited that I managed to put this together, considering that this is the first fic I've written in years and also I dreamed up this idea while sick and full of cough syrup. I'm not sure how obvious it is, but I wanted to make an AU about vampire Chanyeol and his reincarnating soulmate Jongin with multiple fics about their different lives. As I said before, this fic was meant to be the exposition of another fic but it got a little long. As such, it's the only fic in this AU where I intend to feature human!Chanyeol.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I'm feeling pretty self-satisfied with how First Life turned out and probably won't revisit this part of their lives unless someone literally asks me "what was Jongin and Jongdae's childhood like?" or "can we know more about Chanyeol's homeland and Jongin's life there?" so. While I hope you look forward to the other related fics I plan to post, if you want more of this one you should prompt me about it lol.
> 
> I hope everyone has a great day! or night! or afternoon!


End file.
